


Remorse

by elfwannabe



Category: Dark Shadows (1966)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:24:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfwannabe/pseuds/elfwannabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julia Hoffman deals with her guilt about helping Barnabas.</p>
<p>Written for a Shakespeare prompt comm on LJ: <i>Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.</i>--Lady MacBeth</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remorse

At times, when she was resting, when she had almost achieved some measure of peace, his name would pop into her head.

Dave Woodard.

It had been months now, but she still felt her sin weighing down upon her. She had tried to reason herself out of it, telling herself that she had had no choice; that Dave's blood was on Barnabas' hands. She knew better. She had chosen to help Barnabas; even if she didn't have a choice at the time of Dave's death, murder should have been a foreseeable consequence of aiding a vampire. She was not a stupid woman; She had to have known what she was getting into, yet it had shocked and horrified her when the events had finally come to fruition.

And, of course, if she ever became too comfortable with shifting the blame to Barnabas, he was all too happy to remind her of her part.

"But Julia," he would say with the slightest hint of a smirk dancing about his face, "I couldn't have done it without you. Who was the one who suggested the undetectable drug? Who filled the syringe? Really, your assistance was indispensable."

She loved him, but at those times-oh, how she hated him! But then he would smile and say her name and reassure her that it would be easier to bear in time. And she would forgive him his cruelty. He always knew just what to say to push her buttons and she hated that, although she knew he was manipulating her, she couldn't help but let him do it.

She had killed for him. That was what it boiled down to. She had bloodied her hands and, in all likelihood, would continue to bloody her hands in order to help him. She had thrown her lot in with his and there was no retrieving it now, even if she wanted to.


End file.
